the ventriloquist act
by acronymed
Summary: A 'what if' story. Derek runs away to Vancouver with Sally, leaving Casey to deal with all the things they left unsaid. — Derek/Casey, others. Discontinued.
1. you look so good

**Title: **the ventriloquist act  
**Character/Pairing:** Derek/Casey, Sam/Casey, Ralph/Casey.  
**Rating:** T  
**Summary:** A 'what if' story. Derek runs away to Vancouver with Sally, and Casey has to deal with all the things they left unsaid. Part 1/8.

—

He's been quiet the past week, ever since they tried to convince him to stay and failed. She spends seven days cleaning everything in the house twice over and only stops when he comes out of his room to see her scrubbing the coffee table for the third time and pries the washcloth out of her hand.

"Casey, you freak," he says, looking at her wrinkled palms. "I knew you were a psycho, but this extreme, even for you."

He sits her on the couch and makes her watch hockey playoffs with him for three hours. By the time it's over, there are chips all over the floor and her skin still tingles where his fingers closed over her wrist.

That was Monday.

—

Tuesday goes something like this:

They argue over who's driving home on the way to school, then try to shove each other into puddles while crossing the parking lot. There's mud on her shin and the bottoms of his jeans are soaked by the time they make it to her locker. Emily waves at them both, and Casey ducks behind her locker door when Truman turns the corner.

"You can't avoid him forever," Derek says, behind her. She can hear the smirk in his voice.

"No," she goes, pulling out her books. "But I can try."

"No offense, Case," his arms comes around her and shuts the locker as she faces him. She pretends her breathing doesn't hitch just a little, that he isn't leaning a little too close. "But you aren't exactly the Queen of All Things Stealthy."

"I'll have you know that I've moved past wearing blond wigs and sunglasses indoors, thanks." She hugs her books tighter when he looks at her in that lazily appraising way of his. "What?"

"I was just wondering if you were planning on spying on any more of my dates."

She snorts. "Depends. Would you mind?"

The bell rings. He winks at her and lets his fingers brush her side, lingering longer than necessary. "Not really," he says, and that's the last time she sees him.

—

Tuesday night and all of Wednesday consist of a lot of frantic phone calls to friends and extended family and ex-girlfriends and hockey teammates. George is hysterical in that awkward, clumsy way of his as her mom struggles to keep them both together. Edwin locks himself in his room, and doesn't speak to anyone. Marti cries a lot and hides in her fort – Casey convinces her to eat something at around four, and then they both sit and Marti sobs against her shoulder while she stares at Derek's bedroom door.

Lizzie is the only one level-headed enough to go, "Why doesn't somebody just call his cell?"

They do, but it's off. Casey goes to bed with a knot in her stomach.

She wakes up Thursday with a new voicemail.

"_Hey, Case, it's me. I'm in Vancouver; or on my way, at least. I think you already knew this was going to happen – that's why you went crazy and started cleaning everything, right? Anyways, let everyone know I'm fine and that I'll visit for Christmas or something before Dad has a heart attack. Tell Smarti I'll call her when I get a cell phone plan that doesn't suck ass, and, uh, don't let Edwin get too full of himself._

_Yeah, so, uh, that's it, I guess. Vancouver, for the record, looks exactly like Toronto, only with more prostitutes and trees. I don't see why Sally wanted to come out here to begin with._

…

_Case, I'm sor—"_

The message ends, and Casey, for once, is glad.

(For the record, she doesn't start crying then, or barricade herself in the bathroom. That comes later, after his seventh secret voicemail that he doesn't want anyone to know about, where he tells her _Sally is being a passive aggressive bitch again and I'm kind of sick of it _and_ give Smarti a hug from me, okay? _And_ I think I might miss y—_

The message doesn't end there, but Casey turns off her cell before he can finish and hides in _his _room for hours. When George comes up to see if she's alright, she asks if she can get a new cell phone number.)


	2. in the clothes

**The Ventriloquist Act**

[Part 2/8]

"_You look so good in the clothes of a poseur –_

_And when you smiled all the kids fell apart here."_

—

He's been gone for a month. Nora suggests they all drive down to Vancouver to get him after Casey tells them about his first voicemail, but if there's one thing they all know, it's that Derek is stubborn and headstrong and an idiot, and no amount of anything is ever going to bring him back if he doesn't want to himself.

(Except Casey crying, Edwin says under his breath, and for one instance, she considers driving down there herself and bursting into tears and making him feel bad _damn it_ so he'll come back, but she's done cleaning up Derek's messes and she's definitely done crying over him.)

All the kids go back to school after the first week; Casey goes back the Monday after she gets his message and prides herself in not freaking out, not even when half the school bombards her with questions over where Derek is and what he's doing and if he's ever coming back. Surprisingly, it's Emily, Truman and Max who manage to disperse the crowd.

Max gives her a quick hug and looks at her sympathetically – she's glad they moved past her wanting to get back together and him being a jerk, because he's a good friend, even if he is a bad boyfriend – and Truman _tries _to give her one, too, but she moves away. He's her friend, sort of, but he's too much like Derek and she can't do this right now, not when she thinks if he hugs her she'll start wishing.

Emily ushers them away, and then all but crushes her and tells her she knows exactly how she feels, because when Sheldon left she wasn't sure she was ever going to be able to get over it, and _this, _Casey realizes, is exactly what best friends are for. So she hugs her back just as hard and shakes a little, but she doesn't cry.

Emily tells her Sam and Ralph hadn't been at school since Wednesday, either.

Casey goes home, picks up the phone, and gives Derek a call.

"'lo?" He sounds tired, but she's only three hours ahead of him and it's four o'clock, so he can deal with it. She scowls at the television and curls herself completely into his armchair.

"Did you take them with you?"

"Who?"

"Sam and Ralph," she says, white knuckling the armrest. "Did you make them go with you?"

"Even I'm not that selfish, Spacey." He sounds almost disappointed, but she doesn't have time to dwell on Derek, because there are more important things to deal with: the people he left behind, for instance.

"Could've fooled me," she says, and hangs up. Then she grabs her coat, tells George she'll be back by dinner, and walks to Sam's house.

—

Sam's mother is very pretty, with long auburn hair she wears in a half-ponytail and warm brown eyes. When she opens the door and sees Casey standing on the front steps wrapped in her pink coat, she immediately pulls her inside and starts fussing over her. Sam's sisters are all out at their friends' houses, she says, and Sam hasn't come out of his room in days.

They both know why, so Casey doesn't bother explaining. Instead, she extracts herself from the woman's grip and asks if she can see him.

"You know where his room is, honey," is the reply. "If anyone can get through to him, it's you."

The stairs creak under her weight, and Casey tries not to flinch when her knock on his door echoes throughout the whole hallway. "Sam? Can I come in?"

"Casey?"

"Yeah, it's me." She takes a deep breath. "Please open the door, Sam."

He does, and when he looks at her with his mussed hair and sad eyes lined with sleepless nights, Casey wraps her arms around him and tells him they need to go see Ralph.

—

Ralph isn't at home. His parents are frantic, so her and Sam go look at all his usual hangouts and even check the school again just to be sure. The sun is setting when they sit down on the park bench.

"You should go home, Case," Sam says, "it's getting pretty late."

"Not a chance." She tucks her knees under her and stares at his profile. "You're a wreck and Ralph's out who knows where by himself and upset because Derek's an idiot. There's no way I'm leaving you two alone, Mr. I-Haven't-Been-At-School-In-Three-Days."

His lips lift in a semblance of a smile. "And what about you?" He tilts his head towards her. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," she lies. "So worry more about yourself, okay?"

He doesn't look like he believes her, but he doesn't pry, either, so Casey is quietly thankful and asks him if there's anywhere they haven't looked.

"The football field," he finally says. "We used to camp out there when we were kids and watch the stars."

She stands up and puts on her best smile. "Let's go then."

When she offers him her hand, he takes it and doesn't let go.


	3. of an outcast

**The Ventriloquist Act  
[Part 3/8]**

_"and the heat is turned all the way full —  
so don't pretend that you don't feel the pull."_

_—  
_

Ralph is sprawled on the grass in the clothes he was wearing Wednesday. Sam starts running across the field, and Casey runs after him, their palms still pressed together. Grass and mud stick to their shoes, and she's positive the stains on her knees are going to be impossible to get out as the two of them collapse next to him.

"Ralph," she says, her and Sam's fingers linked and pressing gently into the ground, "we've been looking everywhere for you."

"Your parents are really worried, man," Sam adds. "Maybe you should give them a call."

Ralph looks up at them and blinks slowly. "Yeah, I guess I should, huh?"

She nods and stretches her legs out in front of her, her sneakers just brushing Ralph's side. "How long have you been out here?" she asks, as Sam leans back on his elbows and tilts his head towards the sky. There's dirt under her fingernails, and grass stuck to the back of his hand, but neither one of them let go.

"A few hours."

"You're going to get sick, you know."

"I'd rather get sick than be in my house right now," he replies honestly. Sam shifts so one of his legs is slung over Ralph's knees. "Everything makes me think of Derek."

"I know the feeling," Sam mutters.

"I live the feeling," Casey says. "At least you guys don't have to sleep next to his room. Or see pictures of him everywhere. Or sometime go and knock on his door to call him down for dinner and then remember he isn't there because he's so freaking _stupid." _She stops and takes a breath. "I'm sorry. I made it sound like you guys don't miss him. I just. Um."

"You lived in the same house as him for two years, Case," Ralph says, folding his hands behind his head. "I think that's pretty equal to knowing him for like… eight, or something, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam echoes, nudging her with his shoulder. "So welcome to the Derek Venturi Fan Club No One Can Ever Know About. Ever."

"DVFCNOCEKAE," Casey deadpans. "It has a nice ring to it."

They stare at her in disbelief, and then Ralph says, "… that was pretty hot."

She laughs, something she feels like she hasn't done in a month – and truthfully, she probably hasn't – and smiles blindingly bright at them. "It was, wasn't it?"

They spend the night staring at the stars. Casey falls asleep curled up on her side with Sam's fingertips touching hers as he lies in front of her, and Ralph's shoulder cushioning her head.

It's the start of something, she realizes, as Ralph's shoulder moves under her cheek and Sam moves his hand a bit higher to grip hers. She just doesn't know what.

—

Things after that get a bit easier. She talks to Emily and Truman at school, but spends her weekends on the football field with her ex-boyfriend and his best friend. They talk about school and their futures and why some things just don't work out. Mostly, they talk about Derek, and Casey still hasn't cried over him yet.

"You loved him, right?" Ralph asks, three months after Derek leaves and a month after he stops calling her. "And not in the warm and fuzzy brother-sister way."

"… yeah," she says quietly, eyes closed. "At least, I think I did. I think I always did, which is so weird and I feel like some kind of… I don't know. But yeah," her lips quirk sadly, "I loved him. Or was in love with him. Or something."

"He loved you, too," Sam tells her. They're lying in some kind of strange pattern, Ralph and Sam stretched out one way on either side of her, and her laying the opposite direction. Their heads are lined up perfectly, temple to temple. She thinks they're like some sort of stranger jigsaw puzzle that doesn't look like it fits together, but manages somehow.

"If he loved me," she goes, "why did he leave?"

"Because he's Derek," Sam replies, almost bitter, and says nothing else.

—

Four months after Derek leaves, it's the end of November and Marti comes bouncing down the stairs, beaming. "Christmas is coming!" she sings, and Casey smiles from her spot at the dining room table, leftover spaghetti cold on her plate. She doesn't eat as much as she used to, but more than she did in those first few weeks of Derek being gone. Marti runs over to her. "You know what that means, Casey?"

"What, Marti?"

"It means Smerek's coming to visit!"

Her fork hits the plate as she stares at Marti with something like absolute terror. "What?" she asks, and then she remembers that first voicemail and all the ones after it. "Oh, God."

Marti stands next to her, Sir Monks-A-Lot clutched in one hand, and looks up at her with big eyes. "Casey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Marti," she forces out, already mentally dialling Sam or Ralph's or both their numbers. "Why don't you go tell Edwin the great news?"

"Okay!"

Marti bounds up the stairs, yelling and happy and bubbling over with joy as Casey grabs her phone with shaking hands and tells Sam to call Ralph and met her at the field with a tremor in her voice.


End file.
